Science and Faith
by yueie09
Summary: A collection of oneshots/drabbles set on the universe of my For the First Time story, although it can be read without reading FtFT. Random order. HP/HG
1. Chapter 1

This is set in the FtFT Universe, where Harmony is canon and the author is providing sporadic updates.

Disclaimer: The poor author, in no way, lays claim on the magnificence that is the Harry Potter series. Everything belongs to The Queen, J.K Rowling, except for the plot here.

**EDIT**: Someone (anon DragonHeart2006!) advised me to separate this particular oneshot from the rest of the story so here it is! I'm thinking of posting up oneshots set in the FtFT 'verse so you guys at least have something entertaining to read while I bash my head trying to write and update FtFT. How's that sound?:D

Rest assured, I'm typing up chapter 8 as of this moment so hopefully I'm gonna update sometime this week. Sorry for the long wait! Everything will be explained on Chapter 8, so please read that when it is published. Thank you everyone! *hugs and kisses*

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><p>Harry was never one to take things for granted, because he knew the feeling of losing something-people he cared about-and never getting them back. He knew the pain of it, of thinking he would always have them in his life and then losing them a moment later. He had too many important things, too many people he could lose, because of Voldemort, because of Death, to ever think he'd have them forever. He knew humans only had a limited time to live-even Wizards with their powers, their magic, were not exceptions.<p>

He had much too little to be happy about with the ongoing war, fear, anxiety and anticipation ruled his heart far too often but at present, with Hermione providing him with the happiness, and love, he could have in his life now, he feared that whatever joy he could partake in was going to be ripped out of his hands and taken far, far away. He knew there was no such thing as forever, just a lifetime, a Wizard's and a Muggle's-he wondered which one he had, or maybe he had both-a lifetime of experiences stretching out on the road ahead of him, if only he lived through this war.

He wanted a lifetime with Hermione.

Hermione was a Muggleborn. Her lifespan was considerably shorter than his and Harry will lose her all too soon, with the war. Every second, moment, by her side was just a little piece of what could be his last chance to love her-with everything that he was or will ever be.

He had everything he ever thought he possibly could or would have right now, his most desperate wish for years fulfilled. But unfortunately, his everything had a metaphorical hourglass tattoed on her chest-their lifetime was a countdown that had started seven years ago and the moment of its ending was when one of them-or maybe both of them-died.

Harry wasn't willing to let go of Hermione yet, to let their lifetime together end so shortly. Maybe he would never be ready. At all.

And he had a feeling Hermione would never be too.

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><p>THIS IS MORE LIKE A DRABBLE OF SOME SORTS BUT. Idk. *headbangs*<p>

I wrote this a few months back and couldn't decide where to put it. I wanted to publish it and since chapter 8 is still in the works, here it is! I already posted this on Tumblr but since not everyone of you guys are on there, I published this here. *beams* Thanks to those who follow me, even though all I do there is reblog the hell out of christinapotter09 and sexyhorcruxkisses (FOLLOW THEMMMM, amazing people, they are.) *guilty laugh*

Also, thank you to those who reviewed last chapter and I apologize for not replying to some of you precious people. My internet over this side of the world is crappy. (Damn you, Sun Broadband! *waves an angry fist*)

**EDIT**: Haha, another The Script song title! OMG. I really have to think of my own titles. ***s**hakes head*****

Your thoughts?

Read and Review!


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, guys. This part is still during their 'tent' adventures. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter and I don't claim to do so. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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><p>"D'you ever think about what would've happened if we hadn't been magic?" Harry asked, staring at the blue, blue sky above him and wondering idly what his friends at Hogwarts were doing.<p>

At the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione pause in her readings to look at him. There was a moment of silence.

"Yes," she replied somewhat hesitatingly. "I do. Sometimes."

He craned his head from where he was lying on the ground to where she was sitting in a stump meters away from him.

"And?"

She frowned.

"I don't let myself do it often, because I don't regret anything I've done since I set foot in Hogwarts. But...sometimes, sometimes I like to imagine we still met, that even if we weren't at Hogwarts, even if we weren't magic, that we..." she trailed off, biting her lip.

But Harry understood completely.

"I like to think of that too, you know." he said softly, lying back down and turning his gaze up again, watching the clouds move slowly. "That we would've have met, as ordinary muggles, and we would've been together too. And someday...someday, we'd marry and have kids. And, just be normal...and _happy_."

He turned to look at her again.

"Maybe we'd have met at Uni, at a class or a library or even a coffee shop. I would be walking along, late, and I would've looked up and I'd see you or bump into you. And I'd fall in love, unconsciously and abruptly. And it's only months or years later, that I'd realise, how much."

He saw that her eyes were glittering with unshed tears, as if she was seeing it in her mind too, just like he was, and it made her sad, in the way that they'd never have that kind of simplicity in their lives. It made him sad too, but only a little, since he knew that in another life, in another universe, they were happy together, with no pain, no sorrow, no Voldemort. Just happy.

Hermione stood up and walked towards him. She kneeled down beside him and stretched out her hands. He twined their fingers together, and sighed. He startled a little when she untwined their fingers one by one, until only their pinkies were connected. She smiled a bit, and said,

"I read once, that in East Asia, particularly in Japan, they believed that people are connected to their soul mates through red strings tied in their pinkies. That the gods did it so that wherever those two people are, they would always, _always_, find each other, regardless of time, place or circumstances. That this piece of thread may stretch, but it will never break."

She swayed their hands a little, and laughed softly.

"I always thought that the story was silly, that it was impossible for a red thread to be strong enough, to be _long_ enough, to stretch that far. What if one person was in Africa and the other was in Antartica? But then I found out I had magic, and nothing was impossible anymore."

She looked at him, and her other hand brushed away his hair from his eyes.

"Sometimes, I think, we would've found each other eventually, wherever we were. And it makes me happy, to know that in every universe there may be, we would always be together."

He smiled.

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><p>Later that night, lying in their bunk while waiting for sleep to take them, Hermione spoke up.<p>

"You were my first friend, you know."

It really hurt him, to think about the life Hermione may have had before Hogwarts. He knew that she was very much loved by her parents, but sometimes, to a kid, that wasn't enough. He suspected that she may have been bullied by classmates, much like Malfoy had done in Hogwarts, called names because of her appearance, and belittled because of her intelligence. She would've been alone, and very lonely. Harry thought of his own childhood, and ached for her, _with_ her.

"Yeah." he murmured into her hair.

"It wasn't as sad as you may think, my life before Hogwarts," she stated, turning into his chest and sighing. "It wasn't that lonely. I had my books, and my parents. They were enough."

He heard the unspoken 'sometimes', and tightened the arm he had around her.

"But then, I came to Hogwarts, and I had you and Ron, and I was so happy, and then I was sad when I realised how much I missed, and how lonely I was back then. And I was scared too, because every year, it seemed I was going to lose you to Voldemort. It scared me witless then, and now. I am so grateful to you, Harry, for giving me things I didn't realise I needed at the time, and I'm so happy, that you were my first friend, my first everything."

There were so many things Harry wanted to say in reply; 'I'm grateful to have met you too", "I'm sorry" and "I'm so happy to be with you now" but they all seemed inadequate, like they would lessen the meaning of Hermione's words, her feelings, so he settled to just placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. By her content sigh, he figured she didn't mind.

"You're my first everything too, Hermione." he murmured to her as she slept peacefully in his arms. "And you will be my last."

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><p>I don't even know what I'm writing anymore guys. I get these ideas in my head and BOOM! This is the result. Once again, this is written in order to relax myself, so no complicated plots...YET?! (IDEK. Maybe? We'll see.)<p>

If you have enjoyed it, please leave a review to let me know! **Constructive** criticism, not flames, are welcome.

Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I no own Harry Potter.

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><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

Ginny didn't look at him, refused to even glance at his general direction, as she furiously wiped the the tears rapidly falling from her eyes. Harry felt guilty, seeing the usual strong Ginny he knew reduced to tears, of being the cause of her despair. He reached out to touch her and offer comfort, only to be coldly shaken off. She had taken him aside after everything had calmed down, leaving her mourning family behind with stiff shoulders and an even stiffer expression. She'd seen his miraculous return, his victory, and his immediate steps toward Hermione, who had enveloped him in the tightest, most desperate of full body hugs, essentially trapping him with her arms and legs while repeating _'You'realiveYou'realiveYou'realive'_ in his ears. No doubt she'd seen everything she needed to put things together and come to the right conclusion.

"I'm so-" he tried to apologize again, but was silenced by a glare.

She rubbed her hands on her face one last time before taking a deep breath.

"Don't. Just. **Don't**." she stated. "I don't need your apologies, I don't want them. Don't make me feel worse than I already do."

"But I should've told you sooner, I should've-"

"Yes, you should have. But regardless of that fact, you would've still hurt me, and I still would've cried. It changes nothing."

Harry couldn't say anything to that. She was right, it wouldn't have changed anything.

"I'm sorry." he said softly. "I didn't want to hurt you, I never wanted to hurt you, Gin."

Suddenly, she exploded.

"But you did! I loved you, Harry!_ For half of my life, I loved you, I worshipped you!_" she screamed, fists beating his chest, her face red in fury and her hair in disarray. She was shaking and crying again, and Harry let her, just wounding his arms around her and letting her pour out all the fury and rage and grief she had inside.

"IT'S SO UNFAIR!" she screamed hoarsely, struggling violently in his arms.

"I'm so sorry." Harry said against her forehead. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

"_Why do I have to lose you, too?_" she asked him, sobs wracking her body as she desperately clung to him.

And Harry remembered Tonks and Lupin, and their clasped hands, he remembered Colin's glassy eyes, his hands still clutching his camera even in death, he remembered Fred's dead, and frozen face and Ron's lost expression. He could still hear Mrs. Weasley's gut-wrenching cries and Mr. Weasley's quiet sobs in his ears, hear the short thunk of the sound of Percy's wand falling from his hand, and the harsh breathing of Bill and Charlie as they struggled to support each other against this new tragedy, and how George had laughed at first, disbelieving until he saw his twin's prone form unmoving, and how he'd gone quiet and still after.

He tightened his hold around her.

"I'm sorry-I was too late-I'm sorry Ginny, I'm sorry." he whispered to her, saying the words over and over again as her sobs echoed in his ears and her body shook in his arms.

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><p>It was after he'd led a quiet Ginny back to where her family was gathered in the Great Hall that he'd gone and looked for Ron, who was absent from the silent Weasleys. He couldn't bear to look at the Weasleys, to see their ashen faces and haunted eyes, so he'd quickly left their company.<p>

He found his best friend in an abandoned corridor in the third floor, the stairs crumbling and a wall destroyed, causing soft moonlight to stream in and illuminate an otherwise dark corridor. Ron was slumped, sitting in one of the stairs' stable steps, his head between his knees with his hands holding it up. He did not look up as Harry approached and sat down beside him. Silence reigned between them for a long time until he spoke,

"My brother is dead." he stated slowly, as if he still couldn't believe it. "_Fred is dead_."

Harry didn't say anything, knowing that words were useless to a grieving person.

"You know, I saw him, during the battle. Him and George were laughing, as if everything was a game and they were having the time of their lives." he laughed, breathe hitching. "At least I have that as my last memory of him. Fred, happy."

Ron straightened up and scrubbed at his face, trembling body now full on shaking. He covered his face completely, but a few tears still leaked out from between his fingers. Harry immediately put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

"They could've killed Percy instead. I'd have even helped them kill the git." he said between sobs, voice muffled.

Harry knew he didn't mean it. Ron loved his siblings and they loved him in return.

"I just wish Fred didn't have to die."

Harry wished it too.

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><p><strong>AN<strong>: I've been receiving so many faves for For the First Time and so many sweet, humbling reviews! Guys, if you're reading this, thank you so much! Your reviews have made me feel so happy. I hope you guys had an awesome Valentine's Day, whether with your respective partners, friends or family!

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I no own Harry Potter.

Enjoy reading!

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><p>It had been three years.<p>

Harry still couldn't believe it sometimes, that Voldemort was dead, that everyone was safe. That they didn't have to look over their shoulders constantly, and be _afraid_. He still had nightmares, and in some days, he still felt Voldemort's presence inside his head, a dark little corner of his mind he often ignored, still woke up in some mornings expecting the roof of the tent they had used before. He still woke up expecting to see Hermione's head buried in some book or another, the hunch on her back tired but determined.

Hermione.

He missed her, her smell, her heat, her kisses, her smile and laughter. He missed the ache on his arm where she often laid her head to sleep, missed the indentation and heat her body left on the bed. He missed the scent of old paper from the books she always had with her, and the slight cinnamon smell of her perfume. He missed the sound of her voice, gentle yet firm. He missed her more and more, with every day, every minute, every second, that she was gone from him.

It had been three years since she left, taking all of Harry's happiness with her.

Immediately after the war, she'd left to find her parents in Australia, telling Harry that she needed to see them and be sure that they were safe, that her plan hadn't gone wrong. Harry had let her go, since who was he to keep her from the people she loved? It was a year, a year of frustration and dead ends, before she found them, a childless couple living in Dubbo, a small city located in New South Wales. They'd been looking at adoption brochures when Hermione had burst back into their lives and reversed the Obliviate spell she'd cast on them, lifting the veil of normalcy that they had been under for more than two years.

She'd called him that night, voice quivering with relief and weariness, and he'd known she'd been crying, could see in his mind's eye her red rimmed eyes and pale face. She'd told him how angry they were, at first, and hurt, that she hadn't left them any warning before erasing their memories of her, their only child, how painful it was to feel that they were missing something, someone, and not knowing why or how. And then, after the shouting and the crying, how they'd each given her a tight embrace and hadn't let go until they absolutely had to.

"I had to promise I wouldn't do such a thing ever again," she'd said, and he heard the small smile in her voice, and couldn't help but giving a relieved sigh.

For the next few weeks after that, though they'd traded phone calls every day, Harry ached. He missed her and he could tell that she missed him too, through her voice, and how she was reluctant to say goodbye with each phone call.

"Harry," she cut him off in his recounting of a day spent with the Weasleys at the Burrow. "I have...something to tell you."

Immediately, Harry was filled with a sense of trepidation.

"Yeah?"

There was silence on the other line for a moment, before Hermione sighed.

"I...I need to stay here, with Mum and Dad. In Australia."

Shock. Then resignation.

"I see."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I know I said I'd only be away until I found them, but...Mum and Dad don't want to leave, they'd already built a life for themselves here and I don't want to leave so soon. I...can't leave them. Not yet."

"How long until you come back?"

"I...I don't know."

Harry understood Hermione's desire to say, could tell that she was still afraid that she'd suddenly wake up one morning to find out all of it had been a dream, that her parents were still somewhere out there, in danger. She kept the people she loved close to her, and she liked to see that they were fine with her own eyes. She had always been that way, and he saw no reason to object to this part of her, he never did.

And besides, it would only be a couple of weeks more, right? He'd already waited for her for years, he could stand to wait a little more.

"I understand."

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><p>Except it hadn't been a few more weeks, but two years.<p>

Two years of daily calls (both floo and phone) and weekly letters, two years of waiting and aching, of missing her so badly he'd been tempted to pack a light suitcase and move to Australia himself just to be with her, nevermind his work, nevermind that the last of the Death Eaters were still hiding and still a threat to the populace, to him, to her. Nevermind that him and his fellow Aurors were this close to capturing every one of them in a few weeks, nevermind that if they'd caught wind of him going outside of England to go to her, they'd surely follow.

But he hadn't. Because even if he were reckless enough to egg them on, just to get it over and done with, he wasn't reckless enough to endanger her. So he'd stayed in England, and her in Australia.

Hermione had always been willful and headstrong, her stubbornness rivaling his. Once she knew what needed to be done, no one could stop her. And that is why she had stayed with her parents, stitching back their family with gentle hands and fierce determination, making up for the two years that they were not together. She had also taken some Muggle classes, because it wasn't in her nature to stay idle when she could be doing something useful. She'd taken some classes about Interculturalism (Harry didn't know what that was, but she had said something about expanding on the things she'd learn in her Muggles Studies class in Hogwarts) and a few accountancy ones, to supply what she'd learn in her Arithmancy. She'd said it was just so that when she returned to England, she'd have more options to choose from in regards to work, but Harry thought it was also partly because she was bored. He'd joked to her once that he was afraid that she was getting far to smart for him to even keep up with her, but she'd scoffed and said that she only kept him around for his brawns anyway. He hadn't been able to prevent the indignant 'hey!' at that one, at which point she'd laughed and soothed his damaged pride by saying 'i love you' and how brilliant he'd always been at their DADA classes and how happy and proud she was that he was ascending the Auror ranks so quickly, _you've only been with them for two and a half years and you're only one step from becoming the Head of the Departmen_t, he remembered her gushing at him, the pride and joy evident in her voice.

God, he missed her.

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><p>Harry woke up to sounds coming from the kitchen. Immediately, his brain jumped from sleepy to alert and he quickly got up from his bed, his wand held tightly in his hand from where it had been under his pillow seconds prior. Slowly and quietly, he opened his bedroom door, pausing to make sure he wasn't imagining the footsteps he could hear in the kitchen before creeping down the hall towards it, keeping himself hidden in the shadows. It was still early morning, half past four, he reckoned and wondered what the hell a Death Eater was doing at his kitchen. He could see the intruders shadow from where he was leaning against the wall, and he was about to let loose a Finite Incantatem spell when he heard a soft sigh.<p>

He stiffened, muscles still coiled tightly just in case he was wrong, but he could hear it, the familiar footsteps, and the faint humming.

'_Hermione?_' his heart asked, hopeful.

'_No, it can't be. This is a dream, it must be. She didn't say anything about coming back to England yesterday_.' his brain said logically.

Harry shook his head, tightening his grip on his wand before slowly inching towards the kitchen doorway, stopping inches away from where he could be seen if the intruder looked at the right moment. He felt his throat constrict when he saw a familiar head of brown.

"Hermione?" he whispered, unable to believe that she was here, in his apartment, when she had been in Australia just yesterday.

Hermione startled, immediately whipping around to look at him. Harry couldn't breathe for a second as he took in the sight of her, cataloguing the things that had changed, and the things that had not. Her hair was a bit longer, and it had lost the bushiness that it had during their school years, now instead it fell across her back in soft curls. She had gain some weight, looking healthier now that she had gotten back the weight that she had lost during what might have been their seventh year. She looked a bit haggard, but it wasn't the same as the stressed look she had three years ago. Harry suspected it might have been because of the long flight she might have had, since she preferred airplanes to cross-continental Apparating, which she said was dangerous when you didn't know the exact place you wanted to go to.

"_And besides, I like airports. It's interesting to see so many people of different cultures mingling with each other, and how they adapt._" she'd said the night before she was scheduled to leave for Australia. _"I also like to keep in touch with my Muggleness from time to time._"

Harry understood that, since he found that more often than not, he found the Muggle way of living to be more convenient for him. It made sense for him to have the television on while he read the Daily Prophet in the mornings. It was comforting, in a way. It also had the added benefit of him being aware of any disturbances in the Muggle community that might have been caused by the magical means.

Hermione was looking at him the same way too, and her hands were twisting the hem of the shirt she was wearing, a gesture that told him she was as nervous as he was.

"Harry." she said quietly.

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><p>Okay, so. IDK how I feel about this one. Like, I wanted to write something just for the sake of writing, cause it can be relaxing at times, especially if your story doesn't have any heavy plot in it, and writing this did the trick. But I don't know, I feel it's awkward at several parts. *shrugs*<p>

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed it. :)

Review?


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